


Tummy Troubles

by TricksterNag1to



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Emetophilia, Feel free to ask me to write shit guys, Vomit, puking, request, throwing up, venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4108180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TricksterNag1to/pseuds/TricksterNag1to
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chihiro Fujisaki always had a weak stomach, compared to everything else about them that was certainly weak. They had an awful cold that plagued their entire system, making them feel sluggish and tired for the past week. After a too big meal too big</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tummy Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> Request for a pervy friend!
> 
> Feel free to send me a request!

Chihiro Fujisaki always had a weak stomach, compared to everything else about them that was certainly weak. They had an awful cold that plagued their entire system, making them feel sluggish and tired for the past week. After a too big meal of an entire container with a flat soft drink and half of a mochi seemed to want its way out instead of sitting still.

Chihiro could feel their stomach ache, that unexcusable shaking of their innards churning like a washing machine. I better just get this done and over with. They internally whined as they sat on their knees in front of toilet, their stomach begging for the sweet release of emptying itself. One arm hunched over the white bowl, the other holding their chin up.

Now they just needed to get all of this out of their system. After thinking about getting sick seemed to make the process of making themselves throw up made it worse. The programmer always hated the smell of vomit, fowl and non forgiving and sour- like smelling garbage but it was like, personal garbage.

Slowly, Fujisaki closed their eyes as their small pointer finger entered their mouth like a submarine entering a cave, their breath stunk of stale mints and coca-cola and then that metaphorical submarine smacked into their uvula. Now this was where the fun began. The programmer grabbed the punching bag-shaped nerve and moved it around in a slow circle.

Then they felt it come up, a few dry heaves of their stomach shaking and the vomit rushing up their throat like their stomach was a building on fire. A loud, wet sounding cough escaped their lips and another, and another until a quiet sputter left their body. Saliva. Close enough. Another tap hit their uvula then slowly, they were able to hack up some vomit.

It was an awful peachy-orange color that was decorated with the occasional speck of green and blue from the previous food they ate earlier, chunks of undigested food just poured from their mouth. Chihiro felt absolutely awful. More and more food from earlier seemed to come up, ramen and the remnants of Mochi leaving their stomach.

Loud, disgusting coughs and retching noises filled the small bathroom when Fujisaki made the mistake of moving away from the toilet for a moment to make another weak cough. But sadly, that made the bad enough day turn to the worst when they let out one final hack, and a large amount of puke sprayed down their shirt and was making its way down to their skirt.

On top of it all, the smell was absolutely awful. The brunette almost wanted to vomit again, but they found themselves completely unable to for some reason. Tears burned behind their eyes thanks to that stupid godforsaken smell, why did vomit smell so bad? Why could you see everything in it?

Bits of leftover noodles stuck to their shirt, as well as globby bits of cola that made itself into pasty strings seemed to make a frame on their delicate lips. It was so gross. So, so gross. Fujisaki internally cringed as they spit the leftover bits of puke onto themselves. A quick shower would make things better soon.

“Oh g-gosh..” the brunette muttered between breaths as they continued to vomit. Their stomach was finally empty, and there was bits of warm vomit dribbling down their shirt and kneeling onto their skirt, sticking to their suspenders. 

A loud sigh left Chihiro’s mouth, they now had to deal with the annoying taste of leftover ramen seemed to stick to their teeth. Along with the sour stink of stomach acid. With the last bit of their energy, the brunette put their free arm that wasn’t clutching the toilet to their stomach and flushed the toilet.


End file.
